


Bold Moves

by orphan_account



Category: Cinderella 2015
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kit, following a stressful day and night, returns to bed and Ella helps him relax, eventually surprising him with some amorours actions and her husband reflects on her grown confidence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bold Moves

It had been a long, long day for Kit, all of it spent trapped behind mountains of paperwork of all different varieties. Some were just angry complaints about people who fell under his immediate jurisdiction, like the city guards (he wasn't sure how someone mouthing off about the pig farmer that neighboured their property had gotten pass the levels of mediation, however). Others were forms to fill out, granting patronage to this merchant or that. The occasional plea for help from a duke or count heavily in debt, an arrest warrant for the more severer crimes, or a report of someone finding a loophole around paying their taxes. Nothing remotely stimulating. 

Only when he was entering the royal apartments, well passed the hour he tended to retire to his bed, did he realise he hadn't seen his wife all day. He had woken up beside her, and had been unable to help himself by kissing her awake - it was so rare that he would catch her asleep, after all. It was a wonderful way to greet the day, having your lover kiss you awake, and he had been flattered by her sudden return of his affections, once she had recovered from the daze of waking. It had taken all his will power to remove himself from the circle of her arms, arms which he would have preferred to be ensnared in for all eternity, hurriedly promising to return to her early that night. He hadn't, and (if his wife had been anyone but Ella) he would have feared her to be mad at his lateness. Kit had promised, after all. 

"Hello." A warm voice greeted him as he cautiously peered into the bedchamber, finding some candles still lit and his wife sitting up in bed, reading. At night, in Kit's eyes, Ella looked even more beautiful than she did in the day, her golden hair cascading past her shoulders and sometimes even shining in the candlelight, her glorious skin more revealed than ever in her simple nightshift. A sigh passed his lips as the king leant in the archway, thinking himself the luckiest man alive. "I was expecting you a little earlier." Her voice was still kind, her smile soft but sincere and Kit released another sigh, this one in regret. 

"I'm sorry, I came as soon as I could." He apologised, kicking himself for not leaving earlier. Still, he could spend time with Ella tomorrow, thanks to the enormous amount of work he had sorted through that evening. He moved across the room and into the wardrobe, pulling out his nightshirt and pants with a small creak in his sore joints, aggravated by hours at a desk, and began to undress. 

"You don't need to apologise." She eventually smiled, and Kit clambered in between the sheets with a slightly pained groan, squaring his shoulders with an audible crack. He was too exhausted to give the peck on the lips he graced Ella with much thought, or that she clearly wanted more. They exchanged "Good Night"s, and Kit expected that to be the end of it. He was gritting his teeth as he tried to rest himself against the pillows, but Ella stopped him, rubbing at the knots on his shoulders and back. Before he knew it she was kneeling behind him, her rhythmic ministrations causing his eyes to droop.

"I take it your day was not very enjoyable." She suggested, surprised by the tension collected at his neck. She remembered having to endure such aches and pains immediately following her fathers death, her body unaccustomed to the poor excuse of a bed in the attic or her habit of sleeping on the floor. Now, however, if a warm bath failed to cure her of the occasional twinge, Kit was usually available and was constantly willing to assist her. Still, she remembered some small things that helped such ailments. 

"Exhausting and lonely." Kit leaned into the motion, her soft hands easing the stress away with the subtlest (or more determined) of touches, and before he knew it she was kneeling behind him, her rhythmic ministrations causing his eyes to droop. He was returned to the world by the unexpected brush of colder fingertips inside his breeches, eyes flashing open and he released a gasp of surprise, swiftly followed by an encouraging rumble from his throat as Ella continued her antics.

"Not too exhausting I hope." Her words were hoarse whispers in his ear, hot breath on his neck as her lips brushed against his earlobe. There was something so suggestive and intimate in her voice it took her husbands breath away, and he made a small move to turn about - but was stopped mid way by her hand wrapping about him and stroking down his length. For a reason unknown to most, Kit gave a short, giddy sort of laugh. 

They had been married for six months, and in that time Kit had come to understand his wonderful love even more deeply, forever amazed by her sincerity and bravery. He had also watched her grow. When they had first announced their engagement they had been head-over-heels in love (and that had not changed, at all), but Ella had been very different in social interactions. From her years of torment and abuse, she had come to be timid and cautious - especially around people she knew little of or people who were just simply unpredictable. Even with Kit, who she knew better than anyone despite their relatively brief acquaintance, she had been more tentative than someone who felt at home would be. Now, however, there was a marked change in her.

So many people had noted her increased confidence, which never overstepped into arrogance or pomposity, but Kit secretly believed he was the only one who truly saw the entire change. Ella, as she had been during their engagement, would never have dreamed of making such a bold move as toying with her husbands.. Even if he were her husband. As a newlywed, she had blushed at his inquiry of what she wanted him to do, one late afternoon on their honeymoon as they lay in a floating castle of sheets on the floor. She had insisted he simply do what he liked, knowing that she would be made content by his happiness. Luckily Kit was attentive, though he did not doubt her claim, and had proceeded to kiss her, everywhere. 

Feeling her adorable biting on his shoulder, Kit was proud of her, proud of the milestones she had passed - was he flattering himself to believe his love had helped her pass them? For someone to be as assertive in acts of intimacy, that was a feat that even the proudest of people would fail to accomplish, and a small part of him admitted his part in getting her there. He had given her someone to hold and cry with, someone to trust and confide in, someone to love senselessly, in the knowledge that he would always return her feelings.

"I shall never be too tired for my queen." That was a promise both knew he could not keep, but it conveyed his point as he stirred in her grip. He spun around as she pressed herself against his back, claiming her lips in a devouring passion. She somehow managed to discard of his shirt, moving apart from him only briefly to tug it over his head, and by the time they needed to concern themselves with such trifles as oxygen, her shift's stays were undone, revealing where his hands had roamed. Ella had allowed him a delicious moan when his thumb twirled against the peak of one of her breast, and he had responded by squeezing the beautiful mound of flesh ever so slightly. That's when the burning in their lungs had become unbearable. "What do you want me to do?" He finally asked as they broke away. 

"Kiss me." Was his wife's almost instantaneously reply. Kit was confused for but a moment, moving to her lips again, before she interrupted him. "Not there." She breathed, blush rising to her cheeks, and Kit relished the pinky tinge of blood rising to her flawless skin. "Here." Her hand trailed down to the opening of her shift, pushing aside the fabric to offer up one of Kit's favourite friends - they'd known each other only briefly, six months or so, but his affectionate attachment to it had been immediate. Without questioning, Kit turned his attention to her bared breast, moving down her body to find the perfect view before extending his tongue. She felt her squirm beneath him as he flicked his tongue over the bud, before clamping his hot mouth onto it and furiously suckling. He would only stop when she told him to, but she didn't. Only two coherent words escaped her lips, among the mewls and pants that gave Kit a satisfaction like nothing else did, and they did not involve relinquishing his activity.

"Touch..," Her hands combed through his hair, burying his face further into her chest if he ever had a notion to cease his attentions "me..." Kit was hard, too hard to have very much self control left, by the time his hand obediently slid between the inviting thighs that cradled him, rubbing her wetness where he knew she liked it. Her mewls became moans, her cries getting stronger until Kit knew anyone passing by the Kings Chambers could hear her pleasure. His fingers prepared her for his entry, moving about inside her and eliciting even deeper sounds. He lived for those sounds, adored them with every fibre of him. He only withdrew his hand when he pushed into her with a guttural moan, rocking his hips into her as her cries engulfed him. 

"I think I'm going to be sore in the morning." Ella smiled, curling into her husband as they settled at last in the entanglement of sweat drenched sheets. Between her legs and her breast ached, but it was a good ache. 

"You're the most wonderful person there is, you do know that?" Kit checked, lazily planted a kiss on her forehead. "I think we should do that more often." 

"After something you want." She chided him, feeling spoilt already. 

"I like it when you tell me what to do." His tone was joking and playful, and Ella did not take him seriously, but there was some truth to that statement. Kit had grown up a prince, used to taking orders only from his father (and occasionally the scheming Grand Duke, but later on he tended to rebuke his demands), so he had very rarely been told, directly, what to do. In their society a man instructed his wife on everything, not the other way around. It was a very alien feeling, but it meant that if his love, his darling Ella, could boss a king about, then she could tell anyone what to do. It meant she could help him lead their country with confidence in herself, as well as courage and kindness.


End file.
